In the Morning
by MarsDaybreak
Summary: Harry has no idea what to do with his stagnant life after the war but a surprise job offer brings him back to Hogwarts only...what is Draco Malfoy doing there! Now he and his former rival must learn to work together if they want to survive the school year. Post war Harry/Draco Slash, ignores epilogue.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! Thanks for taking a look at my fic! This is my first one so I hope it goes over well. I read a lot of Harry/Draco Slash and wanted to try my hand at writing one. I work three jobs and therefore cannot update regularly, but I'll get writing in when I can.**

 **Warning eventual romance between Harry and Draco, if that's your thing read on :)**

 **In the Morning**

"Look Harry, I'm sorry" Ginny's pained voice reached Harry through the muggle cell phone he had taught her to use.

"What happened to everything we've been through Gin. How can you throw that away?!" Harry could feel the rage burning, his temper, almost as famous as he was, always got the better of him when it would be the least helpful.

"I'm not throwing anything away Harry. The fact that I want to end our romantic relationship doesn't obliterate the past. You're still one of the most important people in my life Harry, you always will be."

"Gin…"

"No Harry," she interrupts before he could go into full blown tirade, "you're not actually angry, or upset."

"Bollocks, you can't tell me what I.."

"How many years have I known you Harry? I've been watching you since I was little, years of watching mixed with several more as your girlfriend certainly gives me some right to say I know you. You may be angry but its not at me, because you know I'm right. We haven't been in love for a while now and you know it." Her words stopped the burst of temper cold, and what replaced it was a well of sadness and resignation. She was right, damn her.

They had struck up their relationship again after the war, after all the death and pain. She and her family had lost a beloved brother and son to the war. Voldemort, in the end, had been defeated but at a terrible cost. Remus, Tonks, Dumbledore, Sirus, Fred, their names among so many others adorned that of the war memorial built in Hogsmeade. After all that loss he and Ginny had continued on, they had needed each other desperately, they were tied by loss and love. Eventually life had continued on, the pain and desperation had dulled and they no longer needed to cling to each other like ports in a storm. She was right. Once the present had become the past they were two people who cared deeply, but their fire, born of the urgent need to prove they were still alive, that they had survived, was now gone, replaced by habit and laziness. Ginny started to play Quidditch professionally. Now the Chaser for England, she would see them take the world cup this year, he was sure of it. And Harry…he couldn't forget, not entirely. In the muggle world they called it PTSD. Post traumatic stress disorder. He certainly couldn't blame his scar anymore. After Voldemort's death it had ceased to be a curse scar, and was able to be very simply removed by Madame Pomfry. The scar was gone but the dreams and memories remained. Wealthy enough not to have to work Harry Potter had shirked the lime light as best he could. He stayed at home in Grimmauld Place, which he had had fully remolded into a surprisingly bright and airy home, most of the time. His previous dreams of becoming an Auror seemed to no longer hold an appeal, he had sacrificed everything to destroy the darkest wizard history had known and he was tired…so tired. Ron had kept going though. He made Auror right after the war finished, his advancement assured from the many losses the department had suffered. Hermioine had entered the Ministry as well, what was left of it, as the personal aid to new Minister elect Kinglsy Shacklebolt. She and Ron had married once the war clean up efforts had begun, and they had adopted Tonks and Remus' son Edward or Teddy as they called him. Now two, Teddy was a handful but Hermioine had scoured parenting books and Ron was, surprisingly, a natural. Harry, as his godfather, made sure Teddy wanted for nothing and went to see him regularly. Usually, he went with Ginny, but he had recently been going alone. Seeing Ron, Hermioine and Teddy as a family was hard when he couldn't honestly see it happening with Ginny. She must have felt the same way, and he wondered at how much of their relationship had become unspoken words, because it had been easier not to rock the boat.

Ginny was right, he knew it. They hadn't argued, there were no cold stony silences, they had just drifted. Become distant. Become two friends living with each other rather than two people in love.

"I'm so sorry Gin" He said after his long pause, he knew he was a big factor in their distance. He withdrew into himself after the war, it was hardly her fault that he kept putting up walls. She threw herself into her career and he had worked to put things right after the war. Diagon Alley, Hogwarts, Hogsmeade. The wizarding world had to be repaired so that people could begin to heal, and he had welcomed the distraction. But everything had been finished in mere months, what would have taken muggles years to fix, and Harry hid in his remodeled townhome, at a loss of what to do from there. Over a year later here he was his relationship falling apart…Fallen, past tense now, and he was no closer to the dreams ending, to dealing with the guilt of the dead, and no closer to figuring out what to do with the rest of his life now that he didn't have the threat of Voldemort tainting his future.

"It…its not your fault Harry. I was there too. But I've moved on Har, I'm living despite the past and despite the dead. You can't let it go. I can't be with you anymore. I've tried and tried to help you, to do anything but you just keep shutting me out. Shutting out anyone who wants to help because part of you thinks you don't deserve the help. You're still blaming yourself for things you couldn't control. I know that Fred, if he were here, would be telling you to stop being a wanker and get over it. Remus would put his hand on your shoulder and give you some sage advice. The dead don't blame you and neither do the living."

Harry opened his mouth to reply then closed it again. The supposed love of his life had just broken it off with him, then proceeded to give him life advice. He should be angry, instead he recognized his earlier anger for what it was, going through the motions. He and Ginny hadn't been in love in some time but she made him wish he still felt the way he did when they were in school. She really was the best. To most people she might seem harsh but she said the right things. Things she had been saying to him for months now. But it had taken her breaking up with him to really force the words to sink in. He could feel the guilt he carried like a physical weight. What would happen if he let some of it go? Would he even know how? And the question still remained. Even if he was ready to let it go….what was he supposed to do with the rest of his life? Was he really having a mid life crisis at twenty? It's no wonder Ginny was calling it. He was a mess.

"Harry?" Ginny asked hesitantly, as if she wasn't sure whether the strange muggle device had stopped working or whether she had mortally offended him.

"I'm here Gin," he answered this time there was a hint of laughter in his tone, mid life crisis at twenty. Maybe he would convert some of his galleon to muggle money and buy a shiny red sports car…except he had never learned to drive a muggle vehicle. There was a voice in the distance on Ginny's side, someone calling her name.

"I have to get back to practice Harry, Wood is on a rampage, he has some new strategy…its absolute bonkers but it might actually work."

"It's ok Gin."

"But will you….I mean…are you ok?" she asked, he could tell she didn't want to hang up if he was upset. What was both good, and sad, is that they had drifted so apart that he wasn't nearly as upset or hurt as he should have been.

"I'll be fine Gin. Call me when you can and we'll….figure out the logistics…and I'll think about what you said. You're right, I have a lot of thinking to do." The logistics being, when she would come for her things as they had lived together since the end of the war.

"Good bye Harry" she said, still a little unsure, but sounding more relieved.

"Bye Gin."


	2. Chapter 2

The Leakey Cauldron looked much the same as it always had, and attracted the same varied clientele. Tom behind the bar gave Harry a little nod when he came in, then went back to pouring drinks. Harry had fond memories of the Leakey Cauldron and Diagon Alley in general. In third year when Sirius Black had escaped Azakaban supposedly to kill Harry, the, then, Minister Fudge had hidden Harry at the Leakey Cauldron after he had accidentally, but unregretably almost blown up his horrible Aunt. The weeks he spent there had been his first taste of freedom. Even at Hogwarts their lives were scheduled. Classes, Hogsmeade visits, homework, sports. His weeks staying in Diagon Alley had been peaceful, the Monster Book of Monsters notwithstanding. Seeing that Neville had already gotten them a table in a corner he headed over.

"Hey Neville" Harry says, sitting down and ordering a Firewhiskey.

"Firewhiskey already? I haven't even said anything yet" Neville watches him with concern, sitting back in his chair with a cool confidence that Neville in school hadn't possessed. Between his going to war against the Carrows, the evil Death Eater siblings that had taken over Hogwarts after Voldemort's return, and everything he had done in the war, the once shy Neville had grown into himself. He was taller now, with an easy smile, and handsome features. He'd grown closer to Neville since the war. The man who could, if not for Voldemort's prejudices, have ended up the one destined to destroy Voldemort. They shared a similar upbringing too, no parents, being raised by relatives who, at best, didn't understand them. Harry wasn't sure whether he or Neville had it worse. In all honesty, he couldn't imagine the unbearable sadness Neville must feel when he sees his parents in St. Mungos. Once they had gotten closer Neville had brought Harry along with him to visit them. Instead of being sad or bitter, Neville was incredibly thoughtful and kind. He'd prospered since the war too. No one had been surprised when Neville had replaced Professor Sprout when she'd decided to retire after the war. He was young for a teacher but like Ron's advancement to Auror, Headmaster McGonagall needed qualified teachers despite their age.

"It's been a long week" Harry says, sipping the drink.

"Oh yeah...Ginny moved her stuff out today didn't she? How did that go?"

"It was alright. It was sort of surreal actually, it should have been bad. It should have been awkward, maybe hurled insults or yelling. But really it was fine, we even laughed a little. I helped her floo her stuff to her new place. A wizzarding building on 10th. We're going to have lunch on Friday."

"Lunch? Harry you just broke up"

"I know Nev, but she wants to stay friends and honestly so do I. Ginny is great, she's family...and this has been coming for a while"

"I'm sorry Harry, but I'm glad you're not broken up about it" Neville shifts in his seat looking like he wants to say something but he's unsure, for a second he looks reminiscent of the old Neville.

"Spit it out Neville" Harry takes another sip of his drink and sets it down.

"Well I...or rather Hogwarts really is in a bit of a bind. Term starts tomorrow and the Defense teacher we had lined up landed in St. Mungo's indefinitely. Bar fight went terribly wrong, you don't want to know, they're still rebuilding the Hogs Head," Neville pauses and shudders, "anyway Headmaster McGonagall's asked me to talk to you about taking the job, just for the year you know." Neville smiles, a nod to the mythical curse that keeps Hogwarts from keeping a Defense teacher for more than a school year.

"You want me to teach at Hogwarts?" Asked Harry, a little surprised. He had never thought of teaching as a career. The DA had been Hermione's idea, and teaching students his age was different than teaching as an adult...he remembered being a student, it was only a few years ago after all. He knows what he put his teachers through. Professor McGonagall especially had always gotten a pained expression on her face when she'd seen Harry, Ron and Hermione in the same room, likely wondering what they were up to. What if he had students like them, or like Fred and George? His thoughts froze, no he was unlikely to ever have students like Fred and George. He looked down at his drink, contemplating. Ginny would be pleased if he took the job. She always said he spent too much time at home "moping" what he called avoiding reporters. At Hogwarts reporters were less likely to get in. Hogwarts, as a teacher...and it was only for a year. If he didn't like it then he wouldn't be expected to stay. It would give him something to do at least.

"Yeah, all right. Tell her I'll do it."

"Really?!" Asks Neville. "Perfect, we were getting rather desperate. I guess I'll see you tomorrow at the staff table. This'll be great, almost like old times. Except we'll have our own rooms. The staff suites are rather nice. Of course you can always head home to Grimauld Place on weekends and holidays if you want."

"Yeah it shouldn't be too bad. Might even be fun. I haven't seen Hogwarts since I helped with the reconstruction."

"I think you'd like the way things are run now. Students don't get sorted now till third year. The first and second years have their own communal areas."

Harry leans forward, interested "Dumbledore always wondered if the sorting happened too soon, not giving students enough time to figure out who they were, creating enmity between houses."

"McGonagall's made a few changes like that since the war. Part of it being the stigma against Slytherin now. She wants the students to have a few years to make friends and learn the basics before they're sorted. After that they're sorted and eligible for Quidditch tryouts and other interhouse related activities"

"Now that McGonagall's Headmaster who heads Griffendor House?"

"Well that's another change she made. The teachers, they take turns. It changes once a year. Last hear I was. This year it'll... Well it'll be you actually. Professor Vector is head of Ravenclaw this year. Hagrid is head of Hufflepuff this Term. And whoever McGonagall has hired for potions are handling the Slytherins this year."

"What happened to Slughorn?" Asks Harry, curious.

"Retired again, now that Death Eaters aren't after him for his potions skills he went back home"

"Who's the replacement?"

"No idea, she said she'd found someone though so all positions are covered. None of us teachers were looking forward to doubling up. It's hard enough to lesson plan for one class and I've always been horrid at potions."

"Lesson plan! I haven't planned anything!" Realizes Harry with a start.

"The professor you're replacing already submitted his plans for the first few weeks of term, just follow those for now then you can work out where to go from there."

Harry lets out a breath of relief and finishes his glass.

"Don't worry Harry, you'll be fine. You we're a wonderful teacher in DA. You're the only reason I passed my OWL's and you know it."

Harry looks a little embarrassed but smiles "thanks Neville. I'd better get back home, I'll need to pack. S'later" Harry heads home, staying up half the night working on lesson plans, and then getting the first decent sleep he's had in months.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry took the floo to Hogwarts a little early. Wanting a chance to unpack and settle in before the feast. He was looking forward to Hogwarts food, the kitchens were really excellent, he had missed the treacle tart. He stepped out of the fireplace into his suite of rooms. The floo network got hooked up special for teachers since you cant directly apperate onto Hogwarts grounds. Harry looked around with interest. He'd never been in any of the teacher's quarters, Neville had been right. The rooms were spacious and comfortably outfitted. Throwing his jacket and wand onto the bed and kicking his extendable trunk into place at the foot of the bed he then headed to the restroom. Not having to use the student baths was a definite perk of coming back as a teacher. He noticed steam coming from the bath around the corner hidden by a decorative screen. The screen reminded him of the prefects bathroom. A suggestive merwoman, dark-haired and grinning, swished her tail at him when he entered. Harry figured the bath had started automatically when he walked in. It's little wonders like that which, even after all these years in the wizzarding world, still amazed him. He tossed his robes on the floor, thinking a nice refreshing dip before supper might calm his nerves. He stopped in his tracks before he was able to take his pants off, shocked. There was someone in his bath.

Harry tried to spin and turn around, back away and apologize at the same time, the sudden movement caused his foot to hit a puddle of water, his arms pin wheeled and he fell face first into the steaming tub. Behind him the merwoman screeched in outrage, her screen toppling over. Gasping for air Harry struggled against the wet form underneath him, his hands slipping. Eventually he was able to push himself up to stare in confusion at the horrified face of Draco Malfoy.

"Er...hulo Malfoy"

"Potter. What. Are. You. Doing?" Asked Malfoy, trying to regain his composure.

"Erm...well I er...I'm teaching here...so I floo'd in. They specially connected the fireplaces. And then I decided to take a bath before breakfast...you know...calm the nerves and then I saw someone was in here so I tried to leave and then I well. I fell."

"Get off of me Potter."

"Oh!" Blushing furiously at both his babbling and the fact that he'd been too busy babbling to move, Harry struggled up and out of the bath.

"What are you doing here Malfoy?" Harry asked, old suspicions rising up. Harry had hated Draco Malfoy almost the entire time that he had known him. A lot of things had happened during the war, he had given up on hating Malfoy but that old suspicion was almost an ingrained habit.

"Don't look at me like that Scarhead. I'm in your presence so I must be up to something. You Floo into my private rooms, jump into my bathtub then have the audacity to ask me that!"

"Your rooms?" Harry blinked. Was he really in the wrong?

"I teach potions. I just started this term." Malfoy said in his haughty tone. Harry had to hand it to him, he was remarkably composed for being naked, sans a few well placed fragrant bubbles.

"You teach...we're teaching...?"

"Yes Potter. Though considering you can barely talk I highly doubt you have the qualifications." Malfoy sneered.

"And what are your qualifications Malfoy? I happen to remember beating you in potions sixth year."

"Oh yes, kissing Slughorn's arse counts as beating me. I happen to have been distracted that year."

"Letting in your Death Eater pals" Retorted Harry. From the look on Malfoy's face he knew his words had reached their target. Malfoy stood up from the bath, both of them too enraged for Malfoy's nakedness or Harry's partially clothed dripping mess to make a difference.

"Leave Potter. Now. This breach of privacy will be reported to the Headmistress. Forgive me if I don't want to spend more time in the bathroom with you than I have to." It was Harry's turn to wince. Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Malfoy's tears. Harry's rage. Sectumsempra. Malfoy's blood coating the floors and mixing with the water. He'd crossed a line that day, he'd almost killed Malfoy. He shouldn't have brought sixth year up at all. He knew very well that Voldemort had Malfoy's family hostage, that he hadn't had a choice, or not much of a one. His disgraced father had long since lost favor with Voldemort. And Malfoy's mother...she was the reason he was alive. She could have told Voldemort he was still breathing. He doubted he could have woken up after a second killing curse.

Harry shuddered as memories flooded in. Desperately he pushed them away. "Sorry, I'll...uh. There must have been some mistake with the Floo. Connected me to the wrong fireplace.." Harry turned on his heels. He grabbed his robes off the floor then rushed to the bed, Malfoy's bed, to retrieve his coat and wand. He eyed his trunk but he'd have to come back for it. There wasn't time to find his room now before the feast and he was expected at the staff table.


	4. Chapter 4

Scorgifying his clothes of bathwater while he walked and dressed at the same time was a delicate procedure but he managed to get most of the moisture out of his pants and put his clothing to rights before he made it to the staff tables. Grateful for a friendly face Harry found Neville and sat next to him with a wan smile.

"What happened, your hair is more wild than usual and you look out of breath." Asked Neville, concerned. Harry rushed through the story, leaving out the hurled insults, his face pink enough with embarrassment without the childishness both he and Malfoy had resorted to.

"Malfoy?! McGonagal hired Malfoy?!" Neville looked shocked. "I know the pure blood families have been pushing to have one of their own on the staff after the reforms, but I didn't realize she'd hire Malfoy…maybe a Pierness or even one of the Goyle second cousins…"

"Well Malfoy always did do well in Potions, hadn't he been running his own shop?" Harry pointed out. He was about to say more when, speak of the devil, Malfoy headed up to the staff table. His hair, unlike Harry's, was perfectly groomed. He had grown it out, no longer slicking it back, but letting it grow and tying it back in a loose braid. Harry had to reluctantly admit the less severe look suited him. Malfoy sent a slight sneer in Harry's direction before taking a seat at the other end of the staff table near Hagrid. Harry's eyes moved to the more friendly face, and he returned Hagrid's enthusiastic wave. Now that all the staff were seated and all the students led into the Great Hall. Professor, now Headmistress, McGonagal stood and walked to the podium. Her speech was less…eccentric, than Dumbledore's had usually been. It contained the standard reminders about the Forbidden Forrest, and useful information for first years, dates for Qwidditch try outs and Hogsmeade visits. Harry was used to seeing the sorting hat at the beginning of the year feast but apparently the new third years had been sorted in a separate room and had already joined the tables of their respective houses. They were lucky, they didn't have to get sorted in front of the entire student body like a spectacle. The first and second years, he saw, had their own tables, separated by year rather than house. He had to admit that he applauded the changes. He remembered the stress of being a new first year student, being sorted into a house without really knowing what was going on, in front of the entire school. All he knew as a new first year was that Draco Malfoy acted like a less portly version of Dudley and that Ron had been nice to him. He'd chosen Gryffindor over Slytherin and he couldn't say he regretted the decision, but it had taken him years to admit that he could really have done well in Slytherin if things had been a little different. After all, Dudley had come around eventually after Harry had saved his life. They would never be friends, but he dropped Harry muggle mail sometimes. Letting Harry know how college was going. He was at an American school on a "foot ball" scholarship. Linebacker of coarse.

Harry was glad when McGonagal was done with her announcements and let the feast begin. Harry tucked in, wanting to forget his morning mishap. He chatted with Neville and pointedly ignored Malfoy at the end of the great table.

Draco could feel Potter's eyes on him as he sat down next to Longbottom at the staff table. It was eerily reminiscent of their school days, Draco glaring, Potter and friends sharing suspicions about his motives. All he had wanted to do was survive the school hear. He frowned at Hagrid. Why he had let the giant oaf talk him into teaching…he had only guilt and liquor to blame. If he had known he would be facing The Boy Who Lived he would have put redemption off for another year. He should have expected it though, Potter and his posse of idiots had been his bane since he was eleven so why would the fates be giving him a break at twenty?

After the war Potter got to relax with his red haired girlfriend and the thanks of the wizarding world, himself included though he was loathe to admit it, while Draco had been forced to deal with his fathers suicide and their near poverty after reparations had been paid and a heavy dose of personal shame to ice the cake. Years later here he was back at Hogwarts with Harry Potter.

Despite his guilt, he had a genuine reason to be sending Potter death glares over the delicious feast. It was no imagined slight this time. Potter had broken into his rooms, dumped his tasteless luggage all over the bedroom Draco had spent the last half hour organizing then proceeded to start stripping, see Draco, then fall shirtless into Draco's bath. Onto Draco himself. It was appalling.

Draco had entertained the idea that Potter has done it deliberately, but Potter's shock had been both amusing and genuine. Potter had filled out in the years since school had ended…that last thought made him spit out his pumpkin juice in shock. Potter had filled out? What was that supposed to mean?

"Yeh Alrigh' Malfoy?" Asked Hagrid good naturedly, patting Malfoy on the back and almost knocking him out of his chair.

"You didn't tell me Potter would be teaching here Hagrid." Said Draco, a hint of betrayal in his tone. He and Hagrid had developed something of an odd friendship after the war. Draco, finally free of the Dark Lords clutches had wanted to do what he cold to make amends, but he was hesitant to approach most of the Order members knowing there would be well justified resentment. He'd finally gone to Hagrid to offer his help tracking down those Death Eaters that still survived. Hagrid had listened because of the part Narcissa, his mother, had played in keeping Potter alive. He and Hagrid had tracked down the remainders of the Dark Lord's forces. Draco had never been brave, but he was a Slytherin and Slytherins were survivors. His guilt had been the catalyst and his tactical mind told him he would need the support of an Order member if he ever wanted to do something other than hide. Hagrid had been reluctant to trust him but after the third Death Eater hole they had cleaned out together a mutual respect had formed. After, he and Hagrid met regularly at the Hogs Head to play cards and drink. He had come to see why Harry had visited Hagrid often in their school days, he was loyal and an excellent listener, something his fellow Slytherins had not been. He hadn't had friends he had henchmen and followers and enemies.

"Ah only jus' found out myself this morning. Yeh heard about Professor Hale's ah bar incident. Well Neville there suggested Harry for the job. Ah mean who better to teach defense than the man that took down Vol..Voldemort."

"I suppose you have a point." Draco responded tersely, Voldemort not being his favorite subject.

"Now don' tell me yeh still hate each other? There's no point to it now."

"I don't hate him, I just find him incredibly annoying." Draco scowled.

"Don' worry Draco, It'll turn out fine. Give Harry a chance he's like some of my creatures, yeh jus' 'ave to know how to talk to him." Draco eyed him and scoffed but there was no malice in it.

It had been Hagrid that had suggested he take the job in the first place, when after much Firewhiskey, Draco had spoken of his guilt toward Hagrid about the Hippogriph, and the baby dragon fiasco, to Hogwarts, to the dead and the living, and to Harry. Drunkenly he'd thought teaching at Hogwarts, helping students not to make his mistakes, could be his penance, he'd try it for a year and see what happened. He'd sent his owl off with his resume and Hagrid's recommendation letter that night and when he'd woken up it was to the worst hangover he'd had in years and his owl dropping his acceptance letter on to his head. Well he was already here, Potter or not, he was here for a reason and he'd see it out.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry was confused at seeing a jovial Hagrid clap Malfoy on the back. To see the two chatting with each other with such friendliness. He studied Malfoy's face, a little paler than usual, his eyes were anxious and the set of his shoulders determined. Since when was Malfoy this easy to read? He wondered.

"It has been three years Harry, McGonagal wouldn't have hired him if she thought he might cause trouble.

"I'm just worried he'll try something."

"Try what exactly? As far as the Order knows all the former Death Eaters have either been rounded up, or are "reformed" and under constant surveillance."

"Not him, the Malfoy's managed to squeeze through. Oily git." But even as Harry said it, he didn't really mean it. He knew Lucious Malfoy was dead, and that Narcissa had withdrawn, now devoting her time to volunteer work. Ironically she worked with muggleborn children and their families to prepare them for the customs and traditions of the wizarding world. In the three years since the war Draco Malfoy had been acquiescent to the laws of the new Ministry, submitting voluntarily to Veritserum questioning once a month to prove he was law abiding, as had his mother. They had both done their best to move on after the war, he had to admit. In their brief encounter Malfoy had been as pompous as ever but Harry supposed he'd had a right to be angry, Harry hadn't burst into his rooms on purpose but he couldn't blame the man for being annoyed. Harry blushed as he remembered falling into the bath, against a very naked Malfoy then shook his head to clear it. He didn't need to be thinking about Malfoy naked, he'd probably have nightmares. Harry would have to face Malfoy after the feast to retrieve his trunk and wasn't looking forward to it in the slightest. Asking a house elf to fetch it for him was an option but he could hear Hermionie's voice in his head chastising him for asking a house elf to do something he could easily manage himself. No, It had been his mistake, he'd suck his pride up and apologize, then do his best to avoid clashing with Malfoy while he was here. He chatted with Neville the rest of the evening then at the end of the feast took a breath and looked back over to where Malfoy had been sitting but the seat was empty. Good, he'd probably already headed back to his room, Harry could stop by on the way to his own rooms across the hall.

Making his way through the castle brought up many memories, he hadn't really been paying attention as he rushed from Malfoy's rooms to the great hall. Now though, he walked slowly, both to delay another interaction with Malfoy and at the sheer delight of being back at Hogwarts. Here, more than anywhere else, he felt at home. It had been his first real escape from his interminable life with the Dursley's. It was here he'd met his first real friends, learned magic, and had ridden both emotional highs and lows. He felt…more himself here than he had in a long time. Again it occurred to him that Ginny had been right. He had been in a fog since the war ended, a perpetual self induced stasis he had been unable or unwilling to shake himself out of. She had done them both a favor. He was excited to begin his classes the next morning, memories of how pleased he'd been as the members of the D.A. had improved, how good it had felt to teach, he didn't know why he hadn't thought of this as a potential career before. He paused at Malfoy's door, having almost walked past it while absorbed in his thoughts. He took a breath, pastes a neutral expression on his face and knocked on the door.


End file.
